The Boy in the Leather Jacket
by ru-chan10210
Summary: Just a suckish short story I had to write for Language Arts class! :


"Grandmother Lynne! Grandmother Lynne!"

It was a magnificently beautiful winter's evening, colder than the coldest refrigerator, but still just as amazing as can be. Freshly fallen off-white snow coated the ground outside of my brick lakeside cottage in Southern Georgia like a silvery blanket of frozen crystals. I sat on my beige futon with my lovely granddaughter, Jaida Kane, her golden curls bouncing as she squirmed in her seat, her lips spread wide as she smiled a delicate snaggle-tooth grin, snaggle-toothed because she had just lost her two front teeth, and her light-green eyes, much like her mother's, twinkling with excitement.

"What is it, luv?" I asked her in my now grandmotherly and sweet voice, faded and worn from years of life, stroking her golden locks to get her calm.

"Tell me a story please!" Her five year old voice squeaked in an ecstatic way, as she folded her hands together, intertwined at the fingers, and made an angelic face that she knew I couldn't resist.

"What about, dearest?" I asked, watching her face turn red with frustration as she thought.

"About your childhood," she replied after a while in thought. I thought for a moment, looking over her blue jean overalls and her pink blouse, along with her pink and white Converse and her silky, pink ribbons in her blond, soft hair.

"Let's see," I said. "Oh yes! I remember now! This story takes place in the summer of '97."

Jaida hopped into my lap as I began, sticking her right index and middle fingers into the pocket between her teeth and lip, and her left fingers into the breast-pocket of my pastel-blue blouse.

"It all started on the first day of my 7th grade year, as well as my first year of public middle school. I was wearing a light-blue dress with crème colored buttons, crème colored tights, and pastel-blue, buckle-up shoes. Back then, my hair was curly and blond like yours, not the silvery thread it is now, and that day I had a blue clip right above my left ear.

"The moment I walked into those big, red doors, I could tell that public middle school was not going to be all fun and games. The hallway was the size of a football field, and lining each side with lockers galore!

"And there were so many kids too! The hallway was filled from me to the turn at the end. And me, well, I was a very small and fragile girl, and like you and your mother. I was terrified that I would be trampled and squished. But even though I was mortified of the outcome, I knew I needed to get to class so that I could get a good education and later go to college, get married, and have a baby, a.k.a. your mother.

"So I walked down one hallway, turning down the other, and finally found my homeroom class. The classroom was quite an unusual sight. It was a mango-magenta wall with posters concerning drug safety and language arts, and other things of that sort. Also, there weren't many kids in my grade. There were sixth graders and eighth graders, but I only saw about two seventh graders.

"As soon as I walked through the door, a girl I suspected to be my age ran up to me. She had dark-brown, almost black hair, dark purple eyes, like your fathers, and freckles. She was wearing a magenta dress with light-purple buttons, blue socks, and yellow shoes with snow-white sunflowers on the toe, which I wouldn't have seen if she hadn't lifted it to run over, which was trailing on the floor behind her!

"And this lady here was your father's mother."

"Grandmother Yammy?" she asked.

"Yes, Grandmother Yammy. But back then, she went by Kayla Yam. Anyways, she ran up to me and said, 'Hi there! My name is Kayla Yam, but you can call me 'Ya'!' 'Nice to meet you, Ya,' I said. 'My name is BellaLynne, but you can call me 'Bella', or 'Lynne' if you would like.' 'I think I'll call you 'La',' she responded. 'But why?' I asked. She replied, 'So you'll be more like me!'"

"Is that why she calls me 'Da'?" Jaida asked.

"Sure is," I told her. "That's also why Grandfather Jack still calls her 'Ya' and why she calls him 'Ja'. Back to the story. After she responded, the teacher walked in. 'Settle down, everyone,' she said. 'Settle down! My name is Miss Lakeworth and I will be your homeroom teacher.' She walked over to the blackboard and copied her name in big letters.

"The second she turned back around, Ya raised her hand. 'Yes, Miss Kayla?' she asked. 'I have two questions. 1: Please call me 'Ya'. 2: Is it alright if I called you Miss 'Wa'?' 'In my classroom,' she said, infuriated, 'I shall call you by your proper name, not by some ridiculous nickname. And no you may not call me in such an improper and unreasonable name!'

"I could tell already that homeroom was going to be one of my least favorite classes. I also realized how when Miss Lakeworth was angry, she threw back her long, giraffe-like neck, sending strands of her light brown hair flying out from behind her ears, as well as her crooked, beak-like nose flaring like an infuriated bull, as her pinkish-orange lips flattened into a line across her face of red, angry, flushed skin.

"The rest of my classes were even worse than homeroom. "There was science with Mr. Monroe, social studies with Mrs. Mackle, pre-algebra with Miss Romain, language arts wit, yet again, Miss Lakeworth, band with Mr. McKenna, and home economics with Miss Milroy.

"Ya was in my home ec class, along with five other seventh graders. None of them sat next to me. I sat next to two eighth graders. One was a very tall girl with long and straight, bleach-blond hair, blue eyes, and she had pink lipstick on. The other one was a boy, very handsome, very quiet, always wearing a blank expression. He had blondish-brown hair, eyes bluer than the brightest sky, and dark red, velvet lips.

"He never once talked. Never even raised his hand. As a matter of fact, if Miss Milroy hadn't come to see how he was doing, I wouldn't have found that his name was Darc."

"Why would a mama name her baby 'Darc'?" Jaida asked.

"Now you mustn't be rude about it," I told her. "Although it was a strange name, it sure did suit him well. After school was over, all the classes split into three groups: Walkers, bus riders, and car riders. Ya, Darc, and a couple other kids I recognized from my other classes were car riders, along with me. 'Hey La,' Ya called. She ran to the bench where I was sitting.

"She leaned over and whispered, 'Have you gotten a look at that 'hunk' of an eighth grader, Darc?' 'I-I don't have even the slightest idea about what it is you're talking about,' I stuttered. I could feel my cheeks go hot as a devilish grin appeared across Ya's face. 'You've seen him, haven't you?' she asked. 'Otherwise you wouldn't be as red as an eskimo in the middle of winter in Antarctica! Isn't he just dashing? Oh no, look out, La! Here he comes now!'

"She was right. Darc was heading toward the very bench Ya and I were sitting on! When he finally got there, he fluttered his long eyelashes over his beautiful blue eyes. 'Excuse me, Ladies,' he said, sending my heart pounding in my throat. 'I was wondering if I could sit here.' 'Of course you can,' Ya practically squealed. 'By the way, I'm Ya, and that shy girl right there, that's my friend La.' 'Nice to meet you two very beautiful young ladies,' he told us. Ya curtsied as I just sat there like a fool, turned away and blushing.

"His voice is so masculine, I thought. And it was. He had the rough voice of a man, but it flowed so very smoothly and sweetly, almost like honey fresh out of the hive. 'So, La,' he said, leaning towards me. I got a big, deep whiff of his cologne, which strangely smelled of a musky-sweet I couldn't put my finger on. 'How are you enjoying public middle school?' I froze in thought.

"'I-it's v-v-very s-str-ange,' I stuttered. 'What's wrong?' he asked, his beautiful smile turned downward with what seemed to be worry. 'Are you cold? Here, take my jacket.' And before I could protest, he had removed his leather, pitch-black jacket and had placed it around my shoulders."

"Why would he do that if you weren't really cold?" Jaida asked.

"Because he didn't know that, honeybun," I told her. "Also because that is the exact sort of thing a boy would do to show chivalry."

"Grandmother Lynne, what is chivalry?" she asked.

"Well," I said, "in this case, it's something a boy does to impress a girl."

"Oh," she replied. "So he liked you?"

"One would think so," I told her. "'Thank you,' I had said in the most polite way I could. 'Don't mention it,' he responded, smiling his bright white smile nicely framed by his dark red lips. Then I saw my mom pull up in her shining yellow van, so I quickly removed his jacket and gave it back, saying, 'That's my ride. Here's your jacket.'

"'Keep it,' he told me. 'You can repay me by sitting with me tomorrow at lunch.' He gave me the jacket, and I was off, smiling to myself as I aboarded my mother's car.

"The rest of the evening went by quite fast. I got home, changed, did my homework, had free time of doing nothing, ate dinner, and went to bed. All of that night, for some strange reason, all I thought about was Darc.

"The next morning went by like a breeze: Ya sat by me in homeroom, Miss Lakeworth yelled through language arts, and my other four periods, band, science, pre-algebra, and social studies, came and went. Then came lunch.

"'Here it is," Ya squealed as we headed to the cafeteria. 'We get to sit with the handsomest boy in school!' 'Handsomest is not a word,' Miss Lakeworth interrupted unexpectedly. We replied in unison, 'Sorry Miss Lakeworth.' But she had already left to the teacher's lounge.

"'Well, that was odd,' Ya said. I responded, 'Very.' Then we heard someone say, 'Ya! La! Wait up!' I turned to see Darc running towards us. When he caught up to us, Ya smiled her devious smile and said, 'Hi Da!'

"Darc looked around to see who she was talking to, while I turned the brightest shade of red than I had in my life! 'Who's Da?' Darc asked. She replied, 'You silly!' Darc looked at me and asked, 'So La is just her nickname for you?' 'Yes,' I responded. 'So what is your real name?' he asked. I replied, 'BellaLynne.'

"He starred fascinated. By then, we had arrived to the cafeteria. We quickly found a seat and went to get our lunches. Lunch was wonderful! I laughed more than I ever had in my life! And when Darc, Ya, and I walked to home ec, I knew I was where I needed to be.

"It was like that for months, from August to January. But then Darc got sick. Every day, I would visit him in the hospital. One of those days, February 14th, I came with a Valentine's Day gift for him. I walked in and looked at his sleeping face, pale and clammy. It made me so sad to see him like this. I guess I had closed the door too hard, because he woke up.

"'Lynne,' he said. 'I brought you a present,' I told him, for some reason making his smile fall into a frown. 'What?' I asked. He replied, 'You brought me a gift, but I have nothing for you.' 'You gave me your jacket the first day we met. That was your gift to me.'

"He thought for a moment. 'I remember now,' he said. 'I remember…" He fell back asleep. I leaned in and kissed his forehead, feeling clammy-hot on my lips, and then I left.

"A few weeks later, Darc had died. I still remember to this day that funeral: His parents crying to the pastor, his sister crying in a corner, and how I felt as if my heart was broken forever. I had brought him a rose, and I wore the dress I had worn the first day we'd met. That was the last day I had ever seen him.

"To this day, Ya and I are still very good friends. Her son and my daughter, now married, have known each other from birth. And even though I found love after Darc had passed, I will never forget the boy in the leather jacket."

I looked down at my granddaughter and sighed. She had fallen asleep.

"Oh my," I said. I cradled her in my arms and placed her into bed. Maybe next time I need to tell a shorter story. Ah, yes. Her mother's first Halloween!


End file.
